


Opia

by Shaleschnueffler



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Arthur is a nuisance, Awkwardness, Belonging, Chapter 4: Saint Denis (Red Dead Redemption 2), Cute, Dancing, Drunkenness, During Canon, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Home, Hope, Hopeful Ending, I Tried, Idiots in Love, Joyful, Kieran is so sweet, Love, Party, Pre-Relationship, Reading, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Regret, Shady Belle, Shyness, Singing, Wholesome, Worry, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28226064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: Kieran is painfully aware of how much he messed up when he let Jack get taken, back at Clemens Point. Struggling with worries and regrets, he has lost all hope for ever achieving belonging and comfort within the gang. When Dutch and his sons head out to go fix what he broke, however, it almost seems like one score and some drinks might be all it takes to make things finally change for the better.Set in chapter 4; taking place around canon events.
Relationships: Kieran Duffy & Arthur Morgan, Kieran Duffy & Basically Everyone, Kieran Duffy & Mary-Beth Gaskill, Kieran Duffy/Mary-Beth Gaskill
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Opia

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, it's been a while since I last wrote! But RDR really made me want to get creative again so here we are, with a fic about the sweetest boi. I spent quite some time writing this and hope y'all enjoy!  
> Feedback is appreciated!  
> *insert excuse about english not being my first language and ooc-warning here*

The days had passed slowly ever since Jack had been taken from them - for one, it was because of the tension that had built up, there was barely a smile to see as he made his way past the campfire to check on the horses for the last time of this day. Another reason might've been the dark glances and rude comments that were hurled at him. It was nothing new to him to be treated this way but while, so far, he'd been able to look past most of the insults, he simply wasn't able to now. Maybe he was more aware of their glares than before, or maybe they'd really started coming at him more often than usual - but, frankly, it didn't matter what it was that had changed, if they hated him for who he was or for what he'd done. He knew that they were right with most of the things they said, and that they had every right to treat him like they did.

Feeling - or imagining - their stares boring through the back of his skull, Kieran was glad to be able to get out of sight as he crossed the small trench and was greeted by Silverdollar and Taima. At least the horses liked him. They didn't know how much he'd fucked up, after all. If they did, they probably wouldn't be as glad to see him.

Shrugging off the thoughts, he gave them both a pat on the neck before walking on, casting a quick glance at every single one of their horses to see if they might need anything, but it appeared they still had enough food and water to make it through the night. Maybe it hadn't been as long since he'd last taken a look at how they were doing as he'd originally thought; it didn't matter all that much, really, he was grateful for being able to get to sleep earlier either way. Having quickly slipped his own horse a carrot - careful not to be noticed by the mounts, of course -, he made his way back to his sleeping spot, knowingly walking around the camp instead of through in an attempt to avoid having to feel even guiltier about everything that had happened.

Sighing, he sat down, leaning against the wagon and letting his view slide across Shady Belle. He noticed Hosea quietly speaking with Dutch near the entrance, and couldn't make out any of what Javier was beautifully playing on his guitar, the sound of the strings being pulled drowned out by the glass-shattering voice of Miss Grimshaw tossing threatening words at Bill, who'd, judging by the things yelled, not done a lot today. It was weird how, mere months ago, he'd feared for his life on the back of Arthur Morgan's horse, and tied to a tree for days after almost freezing to death. 

He still feared for his life, actually. The gang could always decide to get rid of him at some point, and they definitely had a reason to do so after he'd messed up like he had. The fact that he'd been offered a sleeping spot that didn't consist of forest floor and a tree still surprised him. And, on the other side, there was Colm, still, and if the O'Driscolls were to ever lay an eye on him again, he'd be dead within seconds. Which was also why, most of the time, he had troubles falling asleep, too worried and paranoid that he might open his eyes just to find himself face to face with the barrel of a gun - or not open his eyes at all, for that matter.

He was torn out of his thoughts by someone passing him by closely and as his eyes intuitively followed the figure, he recognized the brown hair almost immediately, a shy smile flashing over his face.

\- "Hi there", Mary-Beth greeted, sitting down on the ground a few meters away from him, to do something that Kieran couldn't quite see.

\- "Hi", he said back, awkwardly.

No conversation ensued, although he'd made sure not to fall asleep and to look around instead, even clearing his throat at some point, considering speaking up again but, in the end, deciding against it. A minute of uncomfortable silence followed until she got up and walked away from him without another word. Almost immediately, the tension left his body and he slumped down, internally scolding himself. Jack was gone, and all hope for a wonderful life in this gang with him; because of one damn mistake he'd made because he hadn't known any better. Even the one person who'd always been kind to him, whose company he enjoyed so much. It wasn't fair.

He took a deep breath. Was he really nothing but a stable boy? Had he nothing else to show? Nothing but fishing and horses? Neither his time in the army nor as an outlaw could really be counted as something he'd done well, at all. He just wasn't made for whatever life this was, this cruel, violent world.

As he'd expected, it took him another hour or two to finally fall asleep. And even then, he wasn't allowed to find the break from all this bullshit, and the peace that he'd been and still was craving so much.

\- "Hey, wake up!" His eyes flew open and he yanked his head up in fear and surprise, ready to jump up and take cover within seconds, expecting anything - anything but finding himself looking directly into Arthur's eyes instead.

\- "What is it? I need to sleep...", he grumbled, the tiredness now sinking in again as he relaxed a little. He couldn't even make out Arthur's - probably sarcastic or joking - response, sleep overcoming him again as he wondered what the hell was wrong with this guy who seemed to sleep for 20 hours from morning till night just to take the shortest way out of the building - which was right through the window, mind you - and speak to people that were trying to find some goddamn rest. He'd never understand how a man could disappear for days and return with a new horse and outfit, and a whole load of fresh meat in his satchel, but it was keeping them alive and as well as they could be, and so he surely wouldn't complain. It wasn't like he had the energy for that anyway.

It was not more than four hours after he'd been finally managed to fall asleep that the morning sun's bright beams slowly crept up his body until the light reached his eyes, causing him to groan and raise his hand in order to shield his face. He sat there like this for a few moments, mentally readying himself for all the things this new day would and might bring, before he finally got up on his feet, stretching. Coffee was the first thing he would go for in the mornings and because he rose so early, it wasn't a rare occurrence that he was also the one who had to make it in the first place, which, luckily, didn't appear to be the case today as he could make out some distant voices of people who'd seemed to have gotten up before him. It was way too early.

\- "Morning!", a familiar voice called and Kieran, now kneeling before the can of freshly brewed coffee, raised his head to find Pearson standing by his wagon, appearing to be arranging some cans.

\- "Hello", was the only thing he said in response, voice still a little drunken with sleep but friendly nonetheless; and he was grateful that there were still people here who treated him the same way as before, while he himself wasn't even able to look at his reflection in the mirror anymore.

Having poured himself a hot cup of coffee, he retreated to one of his favorite spots by one of the barns and sat down, silently staring off into the distance and taking a sip now and then. Apparently, there were cougars to be found in the woods in this direction but the only thing he could occasionally see and hear were families of hogs passing by. And birds, of course.

Even after finishing his beverage, he stayed there for another minute, lost in thought and enjoying the sounds of nature that were not yet disturbed by loud voices, clattering pots, and their barking dog. When, eventually, the first yell cut through the calm atmosphere, he exhaled audibly, pushing himself up from the dirty ground and dusting off his pants - not like it'd make a difference anyway but he could at least try to pretend to care about the way he looked. His feet carried him back to where he had spent the night, to pick up his clothes and get changed before adjusting his hat, appreciating the sun's warmth on his back as he walked towards the middle of camp.

The table where he often saw the gang play poker or dominoes was empty now, and so he could easily wipe it down, once more irritated by the stains of blood that Micah's games of five finger fillet had left. In the beginning, he'd still tried everything to get rid of them but he'd given up after a few tries, figuring that a little blood was probably not disturbing any of the murderous outlaws he lived with.

The day felt as long and tiring as any other one, Kieran's time mostly spent on cleaning and helping with the stew and wherever else he was needed. In the early afternoon, they made their way to Rhodes to run some errands, still too scared about the number of lawmen and people Saint Denis would hold and not wanting to risk any difficulties or drawing attention to them just for some medicine and ammunition. Only when they had returned and heaved all the boxes off the wagon did Kieran turn towards the horses to look after them. Already at first glance, he noticed that something was off but it took him another second or two to figure out what exactly it was that was bothering him.

Slightly confused, he looked around, trying to see if he'd somehow managed to overlook the three missing mounts, but they were nowhere to be seen; and so he made his way towards the first person he laid eyes on. 

\- "Hey, uh--", he spoke up, keeping some distance between Sadie and him, knowing very well how much she despised him, while casting another glance back at the horses. "Where did Dutch and John go? And Arthur?"

The look in her eyes was fierce and he could tell that he'd still not grown on her in any way - but she couldn't blame him for caring about those around him and wanting to know what the hell was going on. Eventually, after a few seconds of silence, she looked back down at the knife she was holding, and just when Kieran had thought that he wasn't going to get an answer from her, she raised her voice in response, filling him with relief.

\- "They went to get Jack."

\- "They got a lead on Bronte?"

\- "No, they're just breaking into every house in the whole damn city." The cool, sarcastic tone of her voice showed how much she was craving conversation right now, which was about not at all, and he accepted it, because there was no need for him to stick around and bother her any more.

\- "Okay, I'm sorry, uh- Thank you, miss."

They were getting Jack back. They were undoing his mistake. Or, well, fixing it as best as they could, probably. While he spent his time going on shopping trips and fishing in the damn swamps. That didn't matter now, though. Not at all. If they'd asked for his help, he'd happily offered it; but they hadn't, and so there was no need to get worked up over that matter. With a hopeful smile tugging at his lips, he returned to the horses, proceeding to brush coats, feed apples, change water, and sit down by the small scout fire to clean some of their saddles, all while patiently waiting for the three to arrive back at camp. There was no way they would be without success, not the men that Dutch had taken with him for the job. He hadn't spoken with John much but from what he'd seen and heard, he was no one to mess with. And Arthur? Arthur was something else entirely. Kieran had probably never seen a better shot in his life.

More hours passed. Maybe three or four; the sun was already beginning to set. Worry started to rise up inside him. He could hear people talk, some nervously while others appeared to be as calm as ever. The trust that this gang had in their leader was incredible, and so much different to what he'd experienced during his time with the O'Driscolls; the way they stuck together and would give everything, including their lives, for the people who'd become their family. Hell, even he would give his life for Jack right now if he could.

Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts again, a yell rapidly pulled him back into reality.

\- "They're here! I think I see Jack!"

Kieran didn't care who the voice belonged to because, just then, the three men crossed the small bridge that led into camp, getting off their horses and calling for Abigail who fell to her knees to pull her son in for a tight hug as soon as she laid eyes on him. The weight was lifted from his heart and he couldn't help but breathe out in relief. 

The young boy seemed overwhelmed by the many people surrounding him, and Arthur and John had left the spot where they'd stood talking for a while, and so, figuring he'd just be in the way if he walked over now, Kieran went to get the three horses to their respective place outside of camp first instead. Only then did he dare to head back to where almost everyone was now gathered around the burning fire, swaying from side to side and singing songs from the top of their lungs. He had no intent to join them, though; enjoying just being able to stand by and watch with a slight smile on his face.

It was mere minutes later that he was offered a beer by Karen who enthusiastically held it up into his face, yelling "Come sit with us!", and while he took the bottle from her hand with some hesitation, he sheepishly shook his head in response to her invitation.

\- "No thanks, I'm good just watching"

\- "Your loss!"

Watching the happiness and joy spread, he almost forgot about how miserable he'd been these past few weeks - or years, now that he thought about it. He hadn't felt this happy in years.

The one bottle of beer was followed by another, and then another, and when an opened bottle of rum was somehow pushed into his hands, he downed it with neither question nor complaint - and although he'd never felt like a full part of this party, or this gang so far, the smile on his face grew and grew, just like his drunkenness; so much that when Arthur almost bumped into him, encouraging him to have yet another beer and asking him how he was doing, the words just tumbled out of his mouth.

\- "Joining you was the best choice I ever made!"

Although he was feeling dizzy and lightheaded, he knew that he was saying nothing but the truth; feeling comfortable and relaxed for the first time in forever, glad that they'd both made it out alive back at Six Point Cabin. They talked - or shouted, rather - for some time, with Kieran realizing just _how_ drunk he actually was but, honestly, he couldn't possibly care less, even if he almost tripped over his own feet as he went to grab himself another bottle. Warmth was blooming inside of him, and when the people by the fire guffawed at something he couldn't quite catch, he still couldn't hold in the laughter building up in his chest, having to hold on to the table behind him in order to keep his balance.

Everything seemed so easy and light, there was no hatred, no mean comments being tossed at him, just harmony and sympathy and happiness, and, at some point, even Bill called him over with a wave of his hand, inviting him to sit by the fire with them - and he complied. Finally without worries, without thoughts about how he shouldn't be doing any of what he was doing, he staggered over to where they were sitting, to plop down on a free spot on one of the tree trunks they used as benches, feeling his heart skip a beat and the smile on his face grow to extents he hadn't known were possible. He felt an arm being put around his shoulders as he joined in on the songs of which he didn't even know the words, everything around him nothing but a blurry mess of colors and silhouettes dancing around.

Over time - not a lot of it, though -, singing turned into yelling and uncontained laughter, his eyes lighting up with joy as he realized where he was and what he was doing, seeing all the people around him, feeling like he belonged and like his life was not just sadness and fear, for the first time in so long. More alcohol flowed, both down their throat and onto the ground as some couldn't manage to hold their bottles right anymore, drawing even more laughter from the men gathered around the fire; and by now, the small group by the table had started singing their own songs, making it impossible for a person as drunk as Kieran was at that moment to comprehend just which one he was singing along to. Then again, it wasn't like the words he'd been yelling before had made any sense at all anyway.

It was right then that one of the tunes ended and Kieran, without even thinking about it, for once not having to build up any courage before raising his voice, even though he was surrounded by the people he'd feared so much, stroke up another song, one that he knew, but, seemingly, not many others. But instead of complaining, they just went with it, humming along and clapping their hands in the rhythm. God, he couldn't even describe how he felt, he was overwhelmed. And drunk as shit. There was no need to find the words right now, and even less soberness and clarity in his mind, and so he neither cared nor tried anymore.

However, no matter how drunk he was, and no matter how overwhelmed his brain was, the voice that sounded up somewhere on his right side still took him by surprise; his heart skipped a beat as his reddened cheeks flared up even more, and the words he'd been singing got stuck in his throat.

\- "Kieran!" He turned his head to look at Mary-Beth, his brain not quite able to comprehend what was going on, mouth gaping in surprise, eyes widened. She was holding her hand out to him, the fire's light flickering over her face. Drawing more confusion than courage from his drunken state, he frantically stuttered out a few words, eyes darting from her to his hands and back up, but before he could embarrass himself any more, she appeared to take notice of his reaction and, with a smile, spoke up again, sounding tipsy but definitely not as drunk as any of the men sitting here - including him.

\- "Will you dance with me?" His heart was pounding in his chest.

Nobody else seemed to pay any attention to what was going on; a quick look around assured him that no one was looking at him and seeing the way he slowly, almost bashfully set his eyes back on the woman in front of him, his thoughts a mess and his mind clouded.

There was not enough common sense left inside him for worries.

\- "S-sure", he brought out, reaching out to take her hand, the disbelief visible in his face. They'd talked, here and there, and she'd been the only one who'd confronted him with nothing but kindness from day one, even when he'd still been tied to that damn tree. After having complimented her once and having noticed how all his confidence had washed away as soon as she'd responded in a similar manner, he'd held back with the conversations, no matter how much he'd loved her to teach him how to read. But now? There were no thoughts spent on hopes and reading or the past; just a drunken boy being pulled to his feet by the girl he admired so much, staggering as he lost his balance in the process.

While Kieran was occupied trying not to fall over and avoiding Mary-Beth's eyes, tensely looking anywhere but at her face, she guided his hand to her hip and placed her own on his shoulder. His grip was probably way too tight, seeing as he was having trouble even standing up straight, but if she noticed or was bothered by it, she didn't say a thing.

The music playing was nothing to _actually_ dance to, really, but none of the two seemed to care in the slightest as they began to swing from side to side, at some point not even listening to what the others were singing anymore, just enjoying whatever it was that they were doing in the middle of the camp, leaving footprints all over the muddy ground. And when Kieran finally, for the first time ever since he'd taken her hand, dared to shift his gaze to the woman he was dancing with, the kindness and the happiness burning in her bright eyes drew a smile from him, a shy one, at first, but the more they swayed and spun, the bigger it became, until it turned into childish laughter of joy. He was starting to feel dizzy, and the people, especially those who'd stayed remotely sober, were beginning to cast them glances, but right then, right there, he couldn't possibly care less. He was happy.

They both had no idea what they were doing and where they were going and so it wasn't much of a surprise when they tripped over a bump in the soil, only stumbling at first, but when Kieran lost his balance completely, holding on to her for dear life, they both fell to the ground, not even minding the pain they were feeling because of how much they were laughing.

After a few seconds of them trying to catch their breath, when his eyes sprung open and he found himself staring right into the night sky, with the voices he'd completely blocked out reaching his ears again, and Mary-Beth's laughter still sounding up louder than anything else, he felt... good. Like he belonged. No matter how cold the ground felt underneath his back, how much his head hurt and how fast his thoughts and his surroundings were spinning, there was a warmth inside him that just wouldn't die down. He turned his head, noticing that the woman he'd expected to lay next to him had gotten back on her feet already, giggling at the way he looked; covered in dirt, cheeks red and eyes unfocused. Feeling lighter than ever, there was no embarrassment, no shyness.

What he had here, what he had right now, was nothing like the life he'd been craving all this time. But, still, at this moment, even if he could, he wouldn't change it for the world.

\- "I'm in love", he slurred carelessly, feeling his eyelids get heavier. Their dance, despite the cold, despite the adrenaline, had gotten him more drunk than it had sobered him up.

And that exact moment was also when he felt his body responding to both the alcohol in his veins and the physical exhaustion, a wave of sickness washing over him that made him sit up in panic, barely getting into an upright position before throwing up on the soil, coughing. There was not enough energy left inside him to care, but definitely enough to regret downing so many bottles of beer. With sluggish movements, he let himself fall back to the ground, blinking warily as he rolled over and spread out his limbs, his face hitting the hard, cold ground. Unable to pick up on the way his name was said by a voice he couldn't even make out anymore, unconsciousness came over him.

___

The next morning, for the first time in months, it wasn't the sun that pulled him from his sleep. When he blinked against the light and noticed the way his head was pounding and how heavy his limbs were feeling, he let his eyes slip shut again with a groan, taking a few deep breaths until the wave of nausea had passed him. Lifting a hand to gently rub his temple, he felt the dried mud on the side of his face, and memories came flooding back to him. His eyes snapped open as he remembered the events of last night, unable to figure out if the blurred pictures that suddenly returned to his mind were reality or nothing but snippets of a drunken dream. Only then did he realize that he wasn't lying outside in the dirt - something he only vaguely remembered - but inside the run-down building instead, the room spinning around him. How the hell had he gotten here?

Slowly, careful not to move too fast in order not to throw up or black out again, he sat up and ran a hand over his face, getting some dirt into his mouth in the process. His clothes, and him, definitely needed washing. And he had no clue where his hat had vanished to. Fuck, he was feeling like shit.

Once the headache that had come over him right this second had died down for the most part, he finally found himself able to focus on his surroundings for once, quickly catching up on the fact that the roof above him belonged to the entrance area of the house and, more importantly, that nobody was around who could've witnessed his miserable state. He was still miserable now, but less miserable than he'd been a few minutes ago. And definitely less miserable than he'd been by the end of last night.

Shifting towards the wall and leaning against it, he tried to concentrate on what he still remembered from yesterday's party, except for the fact that Jack had returned and that he'd gotten drunk to the point of unconsciousness. When exactly that had happened and how much of what he remembered had actually taken place, though, he had no idea. At all. 

He was really craving some more sleep but he was pretty sure that he was way too awake for that now, especially considering the way his heart rate picked up when he thought back to the pictures flashing through his mind. Dreading the thought of having to get up from where he was sitting on the floor, he stayed there for a while; too scared of running into someone just to realize that his dream come true had been nothing but that - a dream. Pushed by alcohol and the fact that things had seemed to be going his way for once last night.

There were voices to be heard, he realized, although he couldn't quite make out who they belonged to. Holding on to the doorframe and bracing himself against the wall for support, he hesitantly attempted to push himself up from the floor, prepared to be hit by another wave of pain but, to his surprise, he managed to get to his feet without any major difficulties, apart from his shaking legs and the black dots dancing in front of his eyes. As he was regaining his balance, he cast a first glance through the window next to him, able to make out Micah, Lenny, and Tilly outside, though the dirty glass made it hard to recognize anyone or anything else.

Finally feeling like he could push away from the wall, he took a few careful steps and another steady breath before pushing the door open and finding himself blinded by the unexpectedly bright sunlight directly striking his face.

\- "Had fun last night?" He quickly identified the voice as Arthur's and, confused by how cheerful and energetic a man could possibly be after a party like the one they'd had, responded with a weak "Sure did" followed by a quiet chuckle. The bags under his eyes had to be massive, judging by how he was feeling - like a whole herd of horses had trampled him. He was about to pass Arthur in order to get himself cleaned up and back to work when, from a distance, Hosea called out to them, drawing a sigh from him.

\- "Go get some rest, boy, you look terrible!"

\- "Yeah, I--... Maybe." He wasn't even sure if he'd spoken loud enough for the other man to hear but seeing as everyone appeared to have gone back to their own jobs and conversations, it didn't really seem to matter that much either way.

Eventually, he could make his way to one of their water barrels in order to get the dirt off his face and hands, and he was glad to notice that the cool water on his skin actually washed some of the fatigue off of him. Feeling at least somewhat refreshed and cleaner, he stood there for a second, not sure what to do next - Get changed? Pursue his daily chores? Go find his missing hat? The response to this question was taken off his shoulders when he noticed Mary-Beth approaching him, who was doing nothing to even _attempt_ to stifle her blatant giggling that was _definitely_ directed at him.

\- "You really let yourself go there, huh?" Embarrassment washed over him. And the worst part? Her words didn't even clear up any of the many questions he had regarding last night.

His eyes shifted around nervously until he decided that his own shoes were much more interesting to look at than anything else around, and as he cleared his throat, he became uncomfortably aware of how his arms were uselessly by his sides. Why couldn't he just always be as confident and carefree as when he was drunk? Flexing his fingers and finally daring to raise his eyes again, he spoke up, voice cracking.

\- "I- I was just having a good time, okay? That's- nothing to apologize for!" There was some kind of defensive confidence in his response and the way he straightened up, the same that had accompanied every single one of his attempts at explaining that he wasn't an O'Driscoll to most of the members of the gang, even to Mary-Beth at some point, back at Horseshoe Overlook.

She seemed a little taken aback by his words but the smile didn't vanish from her face for a second; quite the opposite, actually.

\- "Kieran, no, I was just joking!" She laughed, softly. "You really think I didn't have a good time too?"

Could this even get any worse?

\- "Yeah, no, of course not! ...Of course not", he gave back after a short pause, attempting to muster up a confident and relaxed tone of voice but feeling - and probably sounding - more awkward and flustered than ever. "I was just-... ", he added, quietly, raising a hand to his neck and taking a deep breath. "Y'know what, nevermind. I think I need to... go check on the horses."

Mary-Beth let him go without another word and since he forced himself not to look back once as he walked off, it was impossible for him to know if and how much he'd forfeited his chance. The horses could've waited for another hour or two - but escaping had always been his preferred way of dealing with uncomfortable situations, he'd proven that a lot during his time with this gang. For now, he could just hope that she'd take his reaction just as well as last time; she should know his ways by now, after all. Right? Right. Maybe. Hopefully.

Even though he tried his best not to think about any of what had happened, his thoughts kept wandering. Washing clothes and feeding horses really weren't things that occupied the mind a lot, especially feeling as terrible as he did, and so, some time later, he was glad to notice that the day was drawing to an end. Deciding to just leave things as they were and to continue tomorrow, he got on his feet, set on calling it quits earlier for once today to follow Hosea's advice to at least some extent. If he was actually going to get any rest, though, he had no idea. Because right now, looking at the way his pulse rate was going up, what he was doing felt nothing like a break. Still, he was determined - not confident, but determined, and he was sure that the time wasn't gonna get more right anytime soon.

Even from afar, he had no trouble catching sight of Mary-Beth, sitting on the ground, a book in her hand like so often. With steady steps, he made his way through the camp, for once downright relieved that nobody was approaching him as he walked. Absorbed in her story, she either didn't notice or just refused to acknowledge him when he sat down next to her, a few feet between them.

\- "Reading again?" He felt like they'd had this conversation a billion times by now.

\- "Sure looks like it", she responded, friendly as always, now raising her eyes to look at him.

Awkwardly, Kieran wrung his hands.

\- "Do you-... I mean..." He paused to breathe in and calm himself before the next phrase left his mouth in a hectic, almost panicked way. "Last night was really nice. I'm sorry, I don't wanna make this weird but... it was."

Only then did she raise her eyes from the pages to look at him.

\- "You're real strange, you know that?" The kindness in her voice turned what would've normally upset him into something that made part of the tension leave his body.

\- "Yeah, I know... I know. You wouldn't guess but I actually get that a lot."

His words drew a chuckle from both of them, reminding him of the laughs they'd shared last night.

\- "Oh, I can imagine."

By now, he was quite sure that his memories of yesterday could be trusted, for the most part at least. A moment of silence came over them but he was quick to break it with another question.

\- "So, uh... what're you reading?" He slightly turned his head in an attempt to get a better look at the book's cover but seeing as his hopes to lay eyes on some kind of illustration or picture were swiftly destroyed, the letters printed on the binding had no meaning at all to him.

\- "My offer to teach you still stands, you know", was the only thing she said in response, meeting his eyes with an amused smile on her lips, and once he'd overcome the initial, overwhelming feeling of opia, he smiled back, sheepishly.

\- "I'd love that."


End file.
